Full Summary:

Unlike most people, Sakura Kinomoto is seemingly perfect. She is a clean-cut, charming and sensible senior at a prestigious magnet school. She fails to blend in, as the valedictorian of her senior class; she seems to fit right into success without a speck of calamity. What is so wrong with her life worth of inspection? Love. Practically inexistent in her diminishing teenage youth, Sakura is intent on finding her missing puzzle piece, and she'll find it in the unlikeliest of places, or perhaps in the unlikeliest of people.

Disclaimer: Card Captor Sakura rightfully belongs to CLAMP, who else?

Is she ever out of place? Perhaps in a filthy junkyard, overcrowded with filthy punks and filthy garbage music, then she is out of place. You might see her on a Sunday morning, picking up fresh pastries from the local bakery for her family, or on a Wednesday night, working on her volunteering hours at Tomoeda's only hospital. Her smile seems to operate the solar and lunar rotations. Always present when they are present, you might say. She listens to sounds of the past; adoring Buddy Holly on her bike ride to school, or humming along to Electric Light Orchestra. But always basking in the present with Belle & Sebastian. Why is she sitting in front of me? Doesn't the teacher know she is different? Terada sensei needs a sense of reality, and in reality, she deserves the front, not the back. The back seems to be the desired spot for those who enjoy sleeping during class, who don't mind gazing out the window and into the clouds regardless if they'll miss a lecture concerning a semester exam. I see her every morning straining her neck in hopes of catching a glimpse of the numbers sprawled on the screen, squinting above Chiharu Mihara's braids, but never complaining.

Why is her perfection so annoying?

I don't know why I find myself thinking about her in Calculus all the time. It really is obsessive, I'm afraid it might be unhealthy, but with that canny mind and face of hers, it's no wonder I do. And then the guilt sets in, telling me, "Syaoran Li, you have an unfaithful mind! Dissecting a girl who isn't your own girlfriend…" But do you blame me? I bet everyone in Tomoeda Academy has a 'Sakura Kinomoto time'.

Mine just normally happens to be when she's sitting right in front of me in Calculus. And in every other class she sits ahead of me.

"Alright class, see you all tomorrow, and remember to bring a photo of your summer!"

Terada sensei hopelessly called after the group of students thoughtlessly exiting his classroom, but he still smiled, knowing they had listened. I packed my books in my backpack, and headed towards the door, only who else but Sakura to block my way. Her back was facing me, as she scrambled all her materials into her Hello Kitty bag. So childish, and yet, it just doesn't demean any bit of her.

"Excuse me" I monotonously, though politely, call to her.

She jumps a bit, and turns reluctantly.
Jeez, you're not in a horror film, you're in a classroom. I'm another student, just like you. Although, not at all like you

"Ah, sorry Li-san" she glides a few steps back, dropping a few of her pencils.

I keep walking, she's capable, I know. And who asked her to perform such a dramatic scene? All she had to do was move a little, even if she apologized at my expense.

I leave the classroom without another word, all my thoughts of Sakura Kinomoto descending, my irritation and admiration no more. Heading down the halls, I catch a glimpse of my girlfriend, Rika Sasaki. A breath of reality, I feel safe just then. You see, Rika is warm and optimistic, and yet, she's also shy and clumsy. Faults of hers I like, because they're reminders I am not dreaming. They tell me reality can be pleasant, like Rika. She's no Sakura Kinomoto.

"Syaoran!" she calls me, happily skipping my direction. Her eyes brown as ever, her short copper hair hugging at her cheeks. She's as real as I'd like her to be.

"Rika, hey, I was just looking for you" I lie, but she'll appreciate this.

As I thought, her smile remains, while she takes a few steps towards me, her hands on my chest.

"Neh, Syaoran…such lies"

Grinning at her unusual sarcasm, I notice hints of trivial malice in her eyes, flecks of carelessness. Her smiles are assuring, and still, her eyes notify me otherwise. What exactly is she up to?

"Oh, you think so?" I continue on with our game, although I'm not sure of what exactly we're up to, I follow. Uncertainty betraying my façade of aloofness, I'm sure this lets her know of my confusion.

"Syaoran Li…I know your secret"

At these words, my mind immediately summons Sakura Kinomoto. Dear God, why do this now? Whatever has that light of perfection need from my perfectly average and content life?

"Um…what?" my senses have failed me, she has to know.

Her eyes become stern, her smile is crooked, a Rika I have never encountered stands before me, a hand on her hip, her head cocked a bit, and I feel threatened by the five foot three girl. She isn't speaking…

"Syaoran…I think we should just be friends"

When this happens, I've heard your world stops for a few seconds. Your mind blocks out all pleasant events you may have pretended in your future with said partner, your heart beats once before an erratic pace sends trembles and shakes throughout your body, and the tears…they flow like nature. But that's all I've ever heard, because this did not happen with Rika Sasaki.

Instead, I said, "Okay, that's fine with me" with a casual smile on my lips.

I can tell she's a bit frustrated, I can tell because she bites her lip and nearly prevents a small glare, and I know because she flips me off and turns on her heel. Are relationships always like this? Pleasant, just pleasant…until the pleasantness leaves you, but you're not shaken by it, you're no turmoil of disease; there isn't cloud of gloom possessing of all you thought you knew? I did not experience heartbreak the moment Rika Sasaki began to hate my guts.

I arrived home around 7pm, stopping by to hang out with Eriol really had taken more than usual, as I spread the news, and he celebrated my recently single life. I'm in high school….is this even necessary? You see, Eriol, he's the type of guy who will do anything you absolutely forbid him never to do. He likes dares, he takes risks, and he constantly needs someone bailing him out of trouble. I'm afraid of who he will become when we are older, sometimes. But Eriol's also got a good head on his shoulders; he's certainly smarter than I am where the liberal arts are concerned. He's one of those guys that like to think, but never before they act. He's also got a sensitive stomach.

Throwing my bag on my sofa, I announce I am home, even if no one else is. And I know this; I've become accustomed to this. A home safe with silence and disturbed only by thinking, but it doesn't bother me. I enjoy this because I am an average guy, with a youth's curiosity, and an ambition I can't seem to find. I apologize for the latter.

Turning on my Mac, I change out of my uniform. It's a simple one, white oxford button up, black slacks, and a black sweater vest, our school's logo represented on the vest. It's a rather casual get-up, short sleeves for the summer, long sweaters for the winter, basic things, you know. My e-mail seems to be empty, minus the scouting letters I receive from hungry universities, but I know where I belong. Tokyo University, where else? The majority of my classmates are sticking heartily to Tomoeda, going as far as a four hour drive, why? I don't get it, you have the opportunity to be a slight bit less average in our average town, and yet, people actually embrace its nothingness. Don't get me wrong, I have made my peace with normality, but I dare not to embrace its foundations.

"I'm home!" a few minutes later, I hear my mother arrive, along with my two older sisters. I hear steps coming up towards the stairs and headed for my room.

"Jeez, Xiao Lang, where is your decency?" my older sister, Feimei complains, calling me by my birth name.

"It's eloped with your brain" I shoot right back. Nothing like an innocent sibling showdown.

I feel her eyes glare at the back of my head. She'll never live down being the only Li in our household without a college education (that excluding me, but it's in the works).

"Anyway, Syaoran, mom needs you down immediately, she's got something to tell you"

I groan, mother needing to tell me anything never resulted to my liking. It's always some random obligation I owe to a family member, like, "Xiao Lang! Be a dear and pick up your uncle from the airport, you know he has no sense of direction!" or "Xiaoo Laaang!Your grandmother needs her monthly magazine…or else she won't stop bothering me". As if me picking up my uncle and shutting my grandmother's trap would compensate for a lack of direction or inconsiderate yapping.

But I listen all the same, and stand before her writing desk. You see, mother is a crazy artist. She is crazy, how on earth do you support a full grown family with only writing? She has her side projects, but mainly contributes to Tomoeda's sprouting newspaper. I'd be ashamed to say any of her work is about as brilliant as a young Palahniuk, because she is crazy, and she is an artist. There is absolutely no need to tamper with her.

"Xiao Lang, get dressed, we've got a dinner party to attend" sometimes Mother speaks to me in an authoritative tone.

"Dinner party, what for?" I ask, of course.

"You know how mommy's been aiming for publishing with the Amamiya Company?" it's only very awkward whenever Mother transitions from commander in chief to newborn, christened mother, but thanks for the concern.

"Yeah?" I'm not dumb. I can settle two pieces of the puzzle together.

"Well, it just so happens that they've agreed to publishing, so as a seal of the deal, we'll be having dinner with the executive in chief for my project!" if mother could squeal, she would have just now.

"All of us? As in the whole family?" I inwardly groaned, I hate these sorts of events.

"Oh don't be silly, just you, the twins and me" Sighing, I retreated towards my room, knowing exactly what I would wear. White button-up long-sleeve, skinny tie, and slacks, way too simple to even summon up, but it's the simplicity I crave.

Half an hour passed and our household was consumed with perfume. Women truly know how to put on an entire performance on just prepping up. I would know, having lived with five all my life, but thankfully, my two eldest sisters had their own established career.

"Xiao Lang, ready?" Mother asked, as if they were the ones waiting on me.

"Yeah, yeah, let's just go" I say, getting a hold of my sleek black suit.

The twins follow, as we all make room in our family car, which we hardly ever use. Mother has Elvis Costello playing on a low key tune, while a rush of honey colored hair and a vivacity of emerald green eyes brush my clumsily candid mind. I know she adores Elvis Costello. I know she covered one of his songs for our spring festival. She harnesses an infatuation with American and European pop culture I can't seem to understand. Just like her face. It makes no sense.

"Hey, quit dreaming and look sharp, we're here, baka" only Feimei knows how to reel me into reality, and for this one time, I am truly appreciative.

I glance at the ritzy restaurant, the name all too similar on the television. A shelter for the glamorous in Japan, as far as Tomoeda is concerned. A fine charm you wouldn't dare locate in our town, you might also say. I suppose I do feel a sense of pride and elegance entering the marvel of architecture.

"We're here with the Kinomoto's"

…Did I happen to hear my mother right? And just how many Kinomoto's are there in Tomoeda? Please tell me a handful, dear God.

"Ah, right this way" immediately the host brightened up, upon hearing 'Kinomoto's' and cut through any bit of obstacle to seat us in one of the more private areas of the restaurant. We were separated from the rest by our own room. He slid open the paper thin doors, and introduced us to mother's publisher. He was a man of lightly honey kissed hair, spectacles placed before his lucid, sharp eyes and skin a God would envy. For a man well in his forties, he deemed prestige with a glance of his magnificently dashed eyes.

"Yelan, I'm glad you could make it," the distinguished Kinomoto man boldly shook mother's hand, a smile lighting up his ruthless features.

Yelan, mother, whatever, smiled right back, and bowed a bit.

"Of course, Fujitaka," she spoke delicately, "I would like you to meet my daughters Feimei and Fanren, and my son, Xiao Lang".

We all politely bowed and for this one time, met eye to eye.

Could I help thinking he looked all too familiar?

"Pleased to meet you all, really, Yelan, you all couldn't have bared any more resemblance" Fujitaka complimented, I would think. He motioned towards a young man behind him, fashioned with his same sharp, strong eyes. "This is my son, Touya Kinomoto".

We knew he was Fujitaka's son. Only someone standing in possession of excessively good looks would be Fujitaka's son. His hair was not of honey like his father's, but an abundance of dark silk. His eyes did not lie though, Fujitaka was responsible.

"So, shall we begin?" Mother asked, and soon with permission, we all sat down.

"Ah, pardon, but I hope it's alright my daughter arriving in a few minutes" Fujitaka said.

A daughter? Bearing the Kinomoto last name? Lord, let this be a mere coincidence.

"Oh, no inconvenience at all, I mean, the more the merrier, yes?" Mother nervously laughed. I hadn't seen nervous Mother in quite a bit. Refreshing as it was, I also recalled this character got tiresome.

Fujitaka simply smiled, as did Touya, and along with the latter, my sisters blushed feverishly. Being twins, of course, each other's thoughts dance about their brains.

Our menus were handed to us, and looking on the options, I knew we were in unknown territory. There wasn't a price on any item. Therefore, everything had to be expensive. Silently gulping, I glanced at whatever it was my sister's were ordering. They seemed keen on food selections, those two.

"So, Yelan, how are we with 'Chasing Singapore'?" Fujitaka asked about mother's writing project, which began my cue to drone the conversation out, seeing as Touya comfortably situated himself, with charm, with the twins. Every once in a while, I engaged in whoever's conversation touched a relative subject, but for the most part, remained partially observant.

Suddenly, the doors slid open, revealing the sole manifestation of my afternoon fears.

Sakura Kinomoto.

Graced in a 1960s vintage crème and powdered pink, chiffon dress, the pearls lingering on her neck enlightened her eyes with a sincerity of posh. Her long honey colored hair was done up in a classic bun, strands of her wavy hair adorning her lovely face, a pink head band completing her look.

Why me? Ugh, if there is anyone I would not like in my formal, fancy settings, it would be her. As enamoring her face and just about everything seems, I insist, she is annoying and bland with superficial perfection.

"Sakura, about time you've arrived!" Touya's charmed face was replaced with one of alert and impatience. She only rolled her eyes and waved her hand in nonchalance.

"Sorry, sorry, but the student council is just too adamant about this years festival decorations," she groaned, as if showing her distaste with the groups choices.

"Child, we have company," Fujitaka lightly tampered in his children's immediate conversation.

A look of poise replaced Sakura's earlier careless tone, she erected herself, capturing once more her professionalism before falling all over her carefree attitude demonstrated with her entrance. I'm not all that sure whichever I prefer now…

"Oh! I'm Sakura Kinomoto, pleased to meet you all" she bowed lightly, meeting all of our eyes once. Did she not recognize me, or was she pretending not to? I could feel my throat form a small knot, slightly irritated she had not made mention of me. Why should she? I completely ignore her all the time.

"Anyway, Yelan, I was wondering where you planned on expanding with this project?"

And the businesses speak of Fujitaka bored me once more, forcing my attention to the girl seated parallel of me. Sakura sat like she did in most classes, a prim posture erected only by chance of our presence (I hope), and her eyes holding a candor unbeknownst to everything imperfect in the world. Argue with your older brother for a drivel, child, scold your father for mandating your life, sneer at my sisters for being older and free, please do anything that tells me you're real, Sakura, because truthfully, I am sick of you.

"Ah, Li-kun, how are you today?"

Her voice quivered, I heard it, at the beginning.

"Fine"

She drabbled in our air of tension, gasping at the nonexistent formality.

"…so, how did your summer go?"

"You don't have to talk to me, you know" I muttered, the annoyance grappling the few manners I cared for. Something about her is entirely incomplete, I just know it.

The silence that followed us compensated for the bustling conversations everyone shared around us. I felt time stop around us, just the two of us. What makes her so graceful, time even acknowledges her? Oh, when I look at you, Sakura Kinomoto…

"Sorry, I just…well, formalities, you know" her voice was tense; I'm sure, like her muscles, especially after her tumbling routines.

"Well, fuck formalities" this she could handle either way. Either by, 'Fuck it, let's ditch this place and buy all the smoothies we will crave and built sand castles in every sandpit Penguin Park owns (just one, by the way)' or 'Fuck you, leave me alone'. I think I would be in love if my evening was spent smashing sand into our palms.

"Are you always this way?"

Or we could look into my psychological existence, but I don't know what's worse.

"I guess" To say I knew what she meant, would be an insult to my sincerity.

She said nothing else after this, but ordered another Fruit Passion bubble tea, without the tapioca ball. Her drink arrived without hesitation, sitting neatly on her coaster, while she twirled her porcelain fingers on the hem of her dress. I felt terrible, I won't deny, I don't know if it's because I would like to kiss her or if it's because I would like to kiss her and not care that I abhor the idea.

"Eh, Kinomoto, let's go outside"

Her eyes intertwine with mine, we're tangled.

"W-What?" I almost forgot she had questions all the time…British literature class should have reminded me.

"I can tell you're bored because I'm bored" I justified absolutely nothing, but she knew enough of her own boredom.

Emeralds looked down, glancing at her dress, fingers smothering her wrist with indecision.

"Can we get some crepes? I saw this really cute place right around the corner"

My heart tugged inevitably, I'm sure this happens whenever a pretty girl says something childish. Dear God, I can hope, right?

"Father, I need to excuse myself for a while" she politely stated, sliding her chair in as her feet commenced forth the door.

"Likewise" I managed to say.

Neither of our parents turned, but swished their wrists in our favor, drowning in their own words.

The marble doors opened at her service (why not?), while her smile danced heartily on her face. She took steps into the street, her hair in an ornamental atmosphere against Tomoeda's downtown area, cars passing in slow motion. Has the world always been this slow?

"Li-kun, I'm sorry about earlier…I didn't mean to offend or anything, I just thought we could talk"

It may have been the scenery or the crisp warmth of unfaithful security the fall season promised, but her apology resonated with my common sense.

"It's alright, if anything, I guess I should be the one apologizing" I replied.

"So, would you mind starting over?"

Her teeth caught her bottom lip in a trap of uncertainty.

"All the way from kindergarten?" Knowing Sakura all these years, and I'm sure we've never exchanged so many words in one sitting.

"So you don't pretend" she smirked, somehow transfixed in relief.

"Kinomoto, I've sat behind you in nearly every class we've ever had, how could I have missed you"

And this is when her smirk completed my heart beats. Pink lips curved in gratitude, eyes gleamed with acceptance. Sakura Kinomoto took a whole lot to heart.

"But you could have! You know, it is possible"

Oh, no, no, no. Do you even know who you are, Sakura? You are Tomoeda's surviving pulse.

"You? Tomoeda's number one student in everything?"

She grew in coyness and sheepish smiles, eventually rolling her eyes, and waving my accusations with her limp left hand.

"Please…" she responded, but I knew she had more to say.

We kept walking, her Valentino heels clicking the sidewalk; my Oxford's clicking the sidewalk, her charisma and allure poisoning nearly every man that came in her direction. You just cope with Sakura Kinomoto's presence, but you never learn.

"Where exactly is this place anyway?" I asked after a couple seconds.

She looked directly at me, as she teased, "Why? Ready to stuff your face so you don't have to speak with me?"

My lips couldn't help it, "You truly are a sharp girl, Kinomoto, I'm sure Terada –sensei enjoys your lip in literature class"

"Oh well, you know, my wit only comes second best to my –"but before her playful nonsense could proceed any further, I cut in by saying, "Don't even start"

Our footsteps ceased together, her eyes fixed on my face, her grin quick with charm and humility. She spoke soon too, "I'm only agreeing with you, Li-kun, isn't that a start?"

I rolled my eyes at her, a first time without intentions of irritation or dissatisfaction.

We looked at the sign glimmering before us, a café before us bearing the name "Tea Time House", and a scent of pastry delights savoring every inch inside. I held the door for her, the one formality I could spare, and entered the pastel lush of a café. The setting called for Sakura in all her femininity. The wallpaper was a cream colored collage of European streets, more than likely Paris, dashed with underlying tones of gold sparks, and at the borders, pink. At the entrance was the glass displaying all the sweets, behind the counter the coffee machine, ice cream maker, every necessity for this type of café, it seemed. The tables looked of marble, the booths warm with comfort.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

And just to my horror and Sakura's misfortune, Rika stood in her place, behind the counter, only a forced smile twitching with aggravation upon seeing me…alongside Sakura.

"Sasaki-chan, hey, I didn't know you worked here!" Sakura, the polite social metropolis of Tomoeda Academy upheld her reputation in saluting her fellow classmate (if anything, mere acquaintance).

She glared at my sight, rolled her eyes, and replied, eyes glued to her manicured nails,

"Hmm, yeah, I don't remember making a public announcement about it or anything"

Her sarcasm drilled into Sakura's smile, cracking at her left side, I could tell she felt uncomfortable.

"So, anyway, what will it be?" Rika chose to ignore me in the end. But I would take this any other day.

"I'll have a strawberry crepe" Sakura softly spoke, not bothering to add a 'please' or concerning smile. Rika's voice directed towards me, never her eyes. "You?"

"Just an American espresso" and neither did mine. The total came, and I insisted.

"'Kay, your order will be up in a bit, thanks" she monotonously bore into our ears, shoving a receipt along with my change onto the counter top. Just before stomping forth her duties, she lightly flipped her hair in our direction, and absent-mindedly waved her wrist in our presence.

A bitter taste of awkward strain stood between Sakura and me.

"Aren't you going out with her?" she finally asked, and I had a feeling she would.

"Erm, not anymore" I replied.

Sakura discretely looked at me, "I hope she didn't get any ideas…you know, with us here"

I wanted to snort, or smirk in absurdity, roll my eyes in hilarity, slap her silly on her shoulder and say in incredulity, 'Oh, don't be ridiculous!' but I didn't.

I only felt warmth upon my cheeks, and a shrug ensnaring my shoulders.

"Nah" is what I say.

Sakura smiled, she walks up to a booth at the corner of the café, rounded by the serenity of Tomoeda's downtown district.

She looks too pretty, just sitting and waiting.

I follow her, sit parallel once more, and await our conversation. She bothers with nothing, not the stillness of our air, not the staggering curses Rika is surely sending her, and not even the men peeking into her soulful eyes (however soulful a seventeen year-old child may get).

Our order arrives soon enough, definitely not served by Rika, but by a waiter who can't seem to keep from Sakura's smile. I groan inwardly, but understand.

"You know, Li-kun, you aren't as bad as I've assumed"

"You've assumed over me?"

"Don't tell me you haven't done the same"

"No, normally I know who I am"

"I meant over me, baka"

She carelessly insulted me, but this couldn't keep me from forming a small grin. What ever happened?

"Are you going to ignore me at school?" she asked, after swallowing her mouthful of crepe.

I didn't want to, I knew that much, but if she did, I wouldn't bother whatsoever. "We'll see" I said.

And we didn't have to, because along with the fresh morning awaiting me in Calculus, stood Sakura in her desk, bright and early like usual, a smile sketched on her features. A smile no one caught, but regardless, a smile in need of my attention. I waved back.

Sakura Kinomoto, you have officially created a terrible mess.

How was it?

I would very much appreciate feedback, it'll encourage me to continue. And I know the summary may have been a bit misleading, perhaps in thinking that the POV would be in Sakura's. Truthfully, it will switch between the two from chapter to chapter. But I really wanted to draw Syaoran's thoughts in here first, so just hold on for a bit!

I have good feelings about the outcome of this story, so please allow me to continue. Thank you very much for reading this first chapter :)